


The Little Witch and the Cardboard Man

by saphsaq



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dathomir, F/M, Nightsisters (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphsaq/pseuds/saphsaq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That sort of silliness coming out of an discussion about <a href="http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/The_Lawless">episode 16 of the season 5</a> of The Clone Wars. Fanfic, no money made, no copyright infringement intended – just one question and its answer: What would Darth Sidious do with two defective Sithlings? Maybe return them to their maker...</p>
<p>Unbetaed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Witch and the Cardboard Man

"May the Fanged God bite you." Paanize stand on her toes, fumbling around with a mop made of rags on the top of the cabinet. Some lumps of dust became airborne and gloomily Paanize watched them falling down on the fine wrodian plaid covering Mother Talzin's cot. Now she had to clean this too... "I guess, it's the small things in life you should be thankful for," the girl sighed after a moment of contemplation. If there had been no bed she would have never reached the top of the cabinet, and if the bed hat not been a cot, she would have not been able to move the thing to use it as a stair in the first place. She was that little.

The mop fumbled around harder if she had already to wipe the floor where the cot had been standing and the cover of the cot too, she could aldo wipe that shelf throughout. Perhaps then Mother Talzin would not so soon ordering her to clean her sleeping room again. Perhaps then she would be allowed to accompany a party raiding one of the Nightbrothers villages and watch those males competing for approval by them, by the Nightsisters. "Not before you hair is long enough to braid it up," imitated Paanize Mother Talzin's harsh voice. "Ha!" The girl spat out the response she never had give for once aloud: "If you will stop to cut it back!"

Perhaps it should be said at this point, that aside the short-cut hair Paanize was a cute little witch, with a cute round face and a cute little upturned nose in this cute face of hers. Some cute, firm chin and cute, dark blazing eyes. There was for contrast a delicate bleach colour on her skin  which an onlooker had ample opportunity to see, because the Dathomir Witches don't ware much when young and cute and delicate and supple.

But, where were we? Ah well... The mop fumbled around harder, but to no avail. "Boxes!" Growled the little witch, "boxes, boxes, boxes!" Indeed, there was an assortment of cases of various size and form sitting on the cabinet and defying all attempts to clean the shelf with on big swipe. Paanize tried first to push them around with the mop, then to grab the closest with one hand. It doesn't move. She throw the mop down, ignoring the cloud of dust released over the wrodian plaid on impact. "Go, go, go!" Her fingertips could barely touch the box, let alone her hands size it. Pouting frustrated, Paanize realised also, that Go! was not a real hex either.

"Okaaaay," the girl drawled, rummaging her brain for a levitation spell. If she only had paid more attention to the teachings of the older witches... Just before Paanize was about to give up and turn to care for dirty plaid and floor, the case stirred. Glad the little witch rose her arms, hands open and repeated silently the hex she had retrieved from the depth of remembrance. The box sailed gracefully  not too fast, not too slow  down on the cot. It was really a big item and instead of using the now free space to clean the cabinet top, Paanize bend over it and removed nosily the dust form its cover. Through the dirt had appeared some letters. But now, open and readable, it was a disappointment. 'Cardboard, damaged' was written on the lid of the box.

Yet Paanize shrugged and lifted the cover. Mother Talzin was not known for hoarding old paper, but old books with forbidden lore. When some crinkly wrapping tissue was revealed, the little witch was sure she had found an ancient scripture. Expectantly the girl sat down with folded legs and picked at the tissue.

Suddenly Paanize put a hand over her mouth in shock. Then she remembered Mother Talzin's word "Don't do that! You're looking stupid!" and let her hand drop. With her other hand she removed with a single, fast grip the whole wrapping. A Nightbrother! It had to be one, because he wore the Zabrak crown of horns around his head and was black and read tattooed from head to... No, not from head to toe, because the lower half of the man was missing.

"Great fangs of the God," Paanize whispered, supposing this curse might be acceptable as replacement for a hand covering the mouth. She thought the Zabrak, or what left of him, was handsome. Admittedly Paanize had not seen many Nightbrothers, but she was certain, this one was handsome. His skin felt warm when she touched it, but no breath heaved his chest. An unexpected sadness gripped the little witche's heart: "Why has she trapped you between life and death?" For a long while Paanize contemplated the handsome but damaged Nightbrother and became sadder and sadder.

Yet suddenly she sat upright. Where the torso ended and the void began, the flesh was cauterised like from the hot plasma of a lightsabre. A weapon Nightsisters don't use. At least not on Dathomir. In the last moment Paanize restrained herself from hitting a hand on her forehead, remembering this gesture of astonishment was deemed also stupid by the older witches. "The visitor!" Mother Talzin had received an outlander several days before. From where the visitor came and of which race of species the person was, was hard to tell. Wrapped in an uncut black cloak, the visitor had appeared like a bundle of fabric but emanated enough dark energy to keep any curious witch a decent number of foot away. When some of Paanize's sisters had not understand that warning, the bundle of fabric had ignited two lightsabres of menancing red. Nevertheless Mother Talzin had welcomed the visitor with an wary reverence and the two had conferred a long time in seclusion. Somewhen a powersled full of stuff had been delivered by a droid from the visitors space ship to Mother Talzin's home.

Paanize turned her eyes up to the top of the cabinet. Yet none of the remaining boxes appeared like a counter piece for the one sitting before her. "Should there really be no other half?" She wondered. "Okaaay," the girl drawled a second time this day, "if there is none, I'll make you one!" This time the search for the appropriate hex needed longer. Much longer. But eventually Paanize was sure. However, not that sure, she dared to speak out the spell aloud.

There was a blinding light and a rolling thunder. Paanize pressed her lids shut and whispered: "Good Lady of the Wings! I only hope the Coven Mother did not hear that." When she opened her eyes again, the cardboard box was reduced to ashes. But it was not clear if in this process the wrodian plaid had taken some damage too, because on the space the box had occupied now the black and red Nightbrother sat. Complete, more handsome than ever and flexing his muscles like one does after a long sleep. "Where am I?" He asked.

Paanize was about to fold her fingers before her breast in delight of his silken and deep voice. But this would look stupid perhaps and not teach a Nightbrother the humility he has to display toward a Nightsister. Unfortunately the little witch was completely oblivious of the fact that she stared with gaping mouth and a dreamily gaze into her eyes at the man. Therefore, that she ignored his question but asked instead "Are you a cardboardman?" didn't annoy him. A Dathomir witch, but no threat  rather cute actually. And definitely a more pleasant sight than the last one he could remember of - the evil grin in the face of his master above Force lightning tormenting him. With a chuckle the Zabrak answered: "I'm Maul. Do you know where my brother Savage is?"

Two, Paanize thought muted by rapture, two. And just for me! No boring competition to watch, dragging on for eternities while her sisters made sleazy comments thought to be funny and in the end Mother Talzin is the only one to get off with the winner. Great Winged Goddess, I thank you so much.

**Author's Note:**

> First published 02/03/2013 at the [dmeb2](http://www.dmeb2.org/) message board.


End file.
